


Three Different Kinds Of Pyjamas

by FyrMaiden



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7026574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FyrMaiden/pseuds/FyrMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt *is* trying to listen to Blaine, but Blaine's naked and damp and naked. And it's distracting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Different Kinds Of Pyjamas

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: 'I'm going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.'

Kurt knows, if he’s being honest, that what Blaine is saying to him is important. He’s sitting across his blanket covered thighs, hands gesturing wildly, his whole face animated in that way it is when he’s excited about something, when it matters to him. Kurt’s known him for long enough now to know the difference between a Blaine that’s trying to appease him and a Blaine that actually really wants to include him in something that he loves. So yeah. Blaine is excited, and, despite the dark and the long grey shadows on his skin, Kurt’s fairly sure he can see the kaleidoscope whirl and turn of his eyes.  


It’s just.

The shadows on his skin.There’s a lot of skin. All of his skin. He’s sitting on Kurt’s thighs, his ankles pressed into Kurt’s knees, and he’s absolutely entirely buck ass naked. He smells like soap and the special shampoo he uses on his hair, which is dripping in his eyes and onto his shoulders, and he’s talking at a hundred miles a minute, and Kurt is trying - really trying - not to stare at his dick, or the dip of his sternum, or the space between his clavicles.

Mostly he’s trying not to stare at his dick.

He becomes aware, slowly, of the tick of the clock on the wall, and then of the way that Blaine has paused in the flow of whatever he was saying, of the way Blaine is looking down at him with his head tilted to one side, the way he does. Like he’s a wild animal, like he’s a deer, perhaps. His lips turn up into a gentle smile, and his hands fall to his thighs.

Which, Kurt thinks, is unfair, because now he’s just framing the damn problem.

Blaine’s laughter snaps Kurt’s eyes back to his face. “You can look at my face as well,” he says, and Kurt shrugs a shoulder. He’s long past blushing at Blaine’s naked body. It’s right there, what’s he supposed to do?

“Are we talking?” he asks, and it’s Blaine’s turn to shrug one shoulder.

“I was talking,” he says. “But it can -”

“No,” Kurt interrupts him, pushes himself up on his elbows. “But if we are, I’m really going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.”

Blaine’s laughter is belly deep as he rolls to one side and rights himself on the edge of the bed. “How about a robe as well?” he asks, “Or maybe three different kinds of pajamas?”

Kurt huffs and collapses back into his pillow. “Don’t be a dick,” he says. “Or, do. But be useful with it.”

Blaine slides back into bed, beneath the sheets this time, and presses a kiss to Kurt’s shoulder. “Door number two,” he whispers, and Kurt turns his head to catch his mouth with a kiss of his own. “The conversation can wait till your brain is firing on more cylinders than your libido.”

Kurt’s laugh is dry, and Blaine’s hair is definitely wet, and the shadows on Blaine’s skin twist with his body as Kurt chases them with his tongue.


End file.
